


Let Darkness Be My Saviour

by SolarQueen



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Poe Dameron, Established Relationship, Implied/Mentioned Murder, M/M, Suggestive language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25293805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarQueen/pseuds/SolarQueen
Summary: “Dameron wasn’t ashamed to admit that there was once a time he was disgustingly weak, a time the boy he was then would stand no chance against the man he was now. His weakness brought him here, and here he was stronger. The boy he used to be let the darkness in the moment he took Solo’s hand, the moment he looked into the younger boy’s panicked eyes and said yes to leaving for the First Order with him. The shadows were no better than the light, Luke Skywalker was evidence of that, and Dameron had made Ren promise he got a shot or two in the day they found the crooked old man.”
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Let Darkness Be My Saviour

**Author's Note:**

> Oneshots are so hard for me to do but I haven’t written Darkpilot before and wanted to ease myself in with something simple~ also I kind of had no idea how to tag this so it is what it is  
> (Also there may be tense mix ups cause I haven’t written in past tense in a while, forgive my habit lmao)

Dameron knew it was no secret amongst the ranks of the First Order, and of the citizens outside of it, that he was Ren’s favourite person. He loved it, loved being able to throw his weight around and scare the ranks out of the men above him, he was a pilot by choice, because unlike everyone else, he had one of those. Ren liked watching him do it too, kept him on the front of everyone’s minds and their fear of him stayed alive; Dameron always got a nice reward out of it too.

The darkness wasn’t a threat, it coursed through his veins and painted his blood black because he let it. He let his kindness go a long time ago, he had no room for such a risky emotion, barely a spark remained, only housed by Ren in the quiet of their room after long days. 

Dameron wasn’t ashamed to admit that there was once a time he was disgustingly weak, a time the boy he was then would stand no chance against the man he was now. His weakness brought him here, and here he was stronger. The boy he used to be let the darkness in the moment he took Solo’s hand, the moment he looked into the younger boy’s panicked eyes and said yes to leaving for the First Order with him. The shadows were no better than the light, Luke Skywalker was evidence of that, and Dameron had made Ren promise he got a shot or two in the day they found the crooked old man. 

“Dameron.”

“Hux.”

He nodded to the other man as they wandered past each other in the wide hallway. It was no secret they didn’t much care for one another, Dameron didn’t appreciate the attitude Hux took with Ren, and Hux didn’t appreciate the relationship Dameron had with Ren. It was a mutual dislike, and it never interfered with work so most left it be; very infrequently did someone bring up the glares they’d toss one another when in the same room.

It wasn’t lost to Dameron the direction Hux was coming from, and it wasn’t lost to Hux the direction Dameron was going in. They said nothing else but there was a solid sneer from either side while they still shared the same air.

Dameron entered Ren’s room, the air thick with tension left by the thin-faced gremlin he passed in the hall. Ren was on the edge of his bed, helmet off and black locks slipping between his fingers as he held his head in his hands.

“You’d assume, after all this time, he’d learn to deal business outside of your quarters.” Dameron mused, lip quirking up as Ren looks at him.

He shedded the heaviest pieces of his uniform in an unruly pile by the door, and crossed the room to stand between Ren’s legs. His partner’s large hands came to grip the backs of his thighs, and Dameron pushed his black hair back and cradled his face. A softness shared only now, only here.

“ _ Our _ room,” Ren hummed, knowing full well Dameron had quarters across the ship (despite not touching it for almost the entire time he’d been on board).

Dameron grinned, all fangs, an expression that sent shivers of fear down the spines of his enemies but shivers of an entirely different kind down the spine of the man suddenly running circles on his thighs. 

“Maybe if I finally admitted it he’d keep his ass out.”

Ren chuckled, deep and beautiful, and a sound he seldom made in a place like this, but he did it, and Dameron smiled a little softer. They’d never be who they were once, but that was okay, who they were now wasn’t any worse than how they could have turned out stuck within the confines of the light.

Ren pressed his face into the fabric of Dameron’s jumpsuit, allowing fingers to trail through his hair and even out knots created by his helmet. 

“We had a disagreement about the handling of Jakku,” Ren’s voice sent vibrations across Dameron’s stomach as he spoke, “the droid escaped and it’s handler was killed, but there’s a deserter in the lower ranks who may take any opening to escape that he can.”

“Oh.” It was a messy mission, that was why Hux was upset, “it’s a good thing they haven’t seen me without my helmet off before then, isn’t it.”

Ren hums again, “Phasma can probably provide you some old prisoner clothes we haven’t burned yet.”

“I can leave tomorrow morning and be back by mid afternoon?”

Ren’s dark eyes meet Dameron’s, “always so efficient.”

“Only for you.”

That got him a kiss, rough but cutting the puppet strings keeping Ren’s shoulders up to his ears. Their hands are gloved but wandering, squeezing skin to elicit heated reactions. Ren tasted like fire and smoke, the kind of fire one lit by themselves to protect those they cared about, the kind of fire the two of them had lit before.

They escalated, they always did, but they always got a good night’s sleep afterwards.

In the morning he slipped out before too much activity started on the ship. Phasma shoved shreds of clothes into his face with an amused huff, and Hux took mountains of pleasure roughing him up when he asked him to (and Dameron knew he couldn’t ask anyone else because they were more likely to hold back; at least with the ginger stick he got a real-deal look).

He stumbled into the defector quite easily, sneaking not-too-subtly through the hallways until an unmasked trooper scrambled up to him and grasped his arm. They exchanged hurried conversation, Dameron’s silver tongue slipping lies with ease; the defector is easy, they make it to a TIE and out with little interruption.

Dameron had perfected safe crashes a long time ago, so landing on the wasteland of Jakku and living was a lot easier for him than anybody else. The defector (Dameron may have said the name  _ Finn _ out loud, but that didn’t change what he was) helped him out of the sinking crash with more frazzled rambling, Dameron allowed himself to get tugged across the sand, feigning his injuries as something that needed more assistance than they really did.

Niima Outpost was just a shabby junkyard, structures built from weak metal platings and rags littered with holes. 

The droid tries to sniff him out by asking about the jacket he was wearing, he eased out a story of finding it while rummaging through a bunch of abandoned shit - because that place is  _ freezing _ , he said, the defector backing him up. The girl’s trust, while spotty, seemed easily gained after the droid backed off.

He didn’t take action until he saw some troopers rummaging the outpost. He made a point to pass one and flash his identichip at them, letting them nod and pass the message quietly along to the others dotting the outpost.

While it may have been fun to play chase, this mission wasn’t for that, he was doing it for Ren and not to toy with these suckers longer than necessary. They were easy to take out, a couple quick shots and a dagger embedded into the droid between the head and the main body; the girl and defector lay dead in the sand and the droid had just enough life to squeak and warble, but enough wires severed to stop any movement.

He and the other First Order men made vague gestures of peace to the others at the outpost, the onlookers did little more than kick at the abandoned bodies or loot them for scraps; Dameron could almost feel bad. Almost.

On the way back to the transport ship he spotted a relic in the junkyard, a ship he hadn’t seen in years, and one he knew Ren would happily like to take apart piece by painstaking piece to repurpose or burn. The remnants of a lost, tragic childhood.

He slapped the shoulder of the most competent looking trooper, and they took it with little argument from the slug of an outpost leader. The ship was jittery and felt like it was on its last legs, but Dameron wasn’t the best damn pilot in the galaxy for nothing. 

When he’d worked the old ship up into the stars, the Finaliser came into view almost immediately. He made contact as soon as they got close enough, letting his tone work annoyance into lovely Hux’s bones.

“Let Ren know I have a couple gifts he can tear up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading 💛
> 
> My Twitter ~ https://twitter.com/_solarheart_  
> My CC ~ https://curiouscat.qa/_solarheart_  
> My Ko-fi ~ https://ko-fi.com/bambean


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